Elfindell
by Shinigami8419
Summary: **Chapter 5 up** Heero is a child growing up in Victorian England. There is a strange house at the end of his lane. They say it's haunted. But there is an affair much deeper than ghosts hanging around Elfindell. PG for Shounen-ai (1x2) and creepy stuff
1. Default Chapter

Warnings: Slightly scary, dark, shounen-ai later (1x2)  
  
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?  
  
Elfindell  
  
Chapter 1  
  
That house gave *everyone* the creeps. It was big, old, grey and.old. It nestled behind a tall row of neglected bushes at the end of a lane in a small, respectable Victorian town. It was quite a bright, happy lane, with quaint old houses running down each side and children were often to be seen playing around, laughing and shouting in the cobbled street between the houses. The houses were always well lit and pleasant, cheery smoke often curling from the homely chimneys.  
  
Except Elfindell. Elfindell's chimney was dusty and cracked and never had any smoke curling from except on the very coldest of winter days. The whitewash paint was greyed and peeling, the garden was flat, boring lawn that looked always somewhat neglected. The front porch needed mending.  
  
It could almost be mistaken for an abandoned old building if it weren't for the odd candlelight that often flickered from one or more window at night. The occupant of the house, one Miss Relena Peacecraft, (a young widow, they said) could be seen once a week, rain or shine, tramping down to the market on a Tuesday with a wicker basket on one arm. She never spoke to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary and people generally chose not to speak to her. Children stopped laughing and playing and just stared at her in a slightly fearful silence whenever she passed by. She never seemed to notice them.  
  
She was tall, with pale blonde hair always tied back in a severe tail. She never wore make-up. Her face had a kind of beauty in a cold, austere way that even seemed to make her beauty grey. She always wore stiff homespun wool; sensible dresses with the occasional shawl in the winter months, high necked and low-skirted. The clothes she wore were always grey, brown or, occasionally, a faded pale blue.  
  
She emerged once a week, went to the market to buy her vegetables, candles, soap, meat and sometimes books and then retired back into Elfindell not to appear again until next week.  
  
Newcomers to The Lane soon got used to The Lane's local mysterious person. Curiosity soon died simply because there was nothing to find out. A young widow who had reverted back to her maiden name, living in a run-down old house, secluded from the world, cold, separate and seemingly happy to stay that way.  
  
The children of The Lane sometimes talked about her in hushed voices, just in case she could hear them from the dusty old house. Some thought her a witch and giggled over jokes about cauldrons in the cellar. You weren't to go into Elfindell's garden, ever, or you'd be turned into a toad by the witch! The children instinctively played away from the iron gates of Elfindell.  
  
All the children simply *knew* the house was haunted, even if they didn't believe that Miss Peacecraft was a witch.  
  
New children in The Lane thought it fascinating and listened to the stories of the older children with wide eyes and fists clenched in fear and excitement. But no matter how carefully they watched Elfindell or spied on Relena as she walked down The Lane on a Tuesday, they never really saw anything to suggest she was a witch, so they adopted the stories to frighten other children with and occasionally made up new ones to impress others with.  
  
But mostly they ignored Elfindell and its lone occupant. Well, most of them did.  
  
Heero Yuy was nine years old. He lived in the last house on the right, the last one in The Lane before the iron fence around Elfindell. He had moved there with his father after his mother's death when he was five. Though he never really smiled or laughed with the other children he always joined in their games with their spinning tops, hoops and sticks and other small wooden toys. He was usually included in the games, but the other children never really seemed to notice him. He listened to their idle chatter, watched them with their new toys, helped them build the odd go- cart or sit in the shade with them on the sunny days to drink milk and doze the summer afternoons away.  
  
Children in The Lane always hung around together. It was just the way it was. And Heero liked it. No child in The Lane disliked another because it was far more fun to be friends with someone in case they got a new toy or heard a new story. It made them more inclined to lend them or tell them if they liked you.  
  
Heero sometimes had new toys that drew the admiration of his fellows, but he never really had any new stories.  
  
He loved to listen to their stories, though, and Elfindell fascinated him. He was the only one among them that never really forgot about Elfindell. The others all liked new stories, of ghosts in the church, gypsies on the common or an albino born on the other side of town. Heero listened to those stories, but he always liked the stories about Elfindell most.  
  
He supposed it was because his bedroom window looked right in over the top of the iron fence and the bushes and he had a clear, unhindered view of the big old house. The best view of it all along The Lane, he was certain, except for actually inside the fence.  
  
"You know about Elfindell, right, Heero?" said one of the older kids when he had first moved there. "It's the big old one right next to your house, behind the iron gates. A witch lives there and it's full of ghosts! You better watch out or they might come an' get ya!"  
  
The intended affect was to have scared the smaller boy into hysterics. However, Heero had just stared at the older boy with fascinated eyes and asked for more stories.  
  
He often peered out of his window into the overgrown garden and tried to peer through the dusty windows. He occasionally saw Relena, but only when she had come to the window to shut the curtains. He always peered hopefully for any sign of ghosts, but never saw any.  
  
It was so one evening that Heero happened to glance out his window just as he had blown out his candle. He could see a light in one of Elfindell's windows. He couldn't resist sneaking up to his own window and looking around for any silhouettes of Relena in a tall, pointy hat, stirring a cauldron. But no. But he did see Relena, silhouetted against the candlelight. He couldn't tell what she was doing. He saw her lift the candle to her face, ready to blow it out. She was gesturing as if speaking to someone. Then, just as she blew out the candle, Heero plainly saw the silhouette of another person step into view, a small person, he just had time to see, a person kneeling or a child. But then the light was gone, the heavy drapes were pulled across Elfindell's window and Heero saw no more.  
  
Another person? Someone else in Elfindell? For a frightened second, Heero thought maybe Relena had caught one of the kids and was going to turn them into a frog. But no, she hadn't been holding a wand. And she hadn't seemed angry.  
  
But Relena lived all by herself and there was no way she could have smuggled in a child without someone knowing. It would have been all over The Lane if there was a visitor to Elfindell.  
  
Heero went to bed, puzzling over this. He couldn't wait to tell the others in the morning.  
  
TBC  
  
Whaddaya think? I'm going for a different type of story on this one. 


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: Slightly scary, dark, shounen-ai later (1x2)  
  
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?  
  
Elfindell  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"You're having a joke, Heero," Wufei, an older boy, said, after Heero had finished his story.  
  
Heero glared at him.  
  
"Or maybe you're not," admitted Wufei.  
  
"But still," Quatre, a little blonde lad chirped up nervously. "There can't be anyone else in Elfindell.I mean, why would anyone *want* to go in there?"  
  
Trowa, a tall boy, nodded in agreement.  
  
Heero found it hard to be as nervous as he was last night now, when the sun was shining in The Lane and Elfindell was hidden behind the towering bushes and iron railings. But still, he had known what had seen.  
  
The other children all either didn't believe him, or didn't want to. The fun of ghost stories was all very well and good, but Heero felt there was actually something downright sinister about the house that all the children, however brave they liked to think themselves, found uncomfortable. Any hint of any real dark happenings and it was a bit too close to home. It was all too believable that Elfindell wasn't all it seemed.  
  
The children never spoke about Heero's little experience amongst themselves again. They chose to try and forget it and stuck to the scary but much more fun stories of cauldrons and ghosts which they didn't really believe, but they were reassuring in their impossibilities.  
  
But Heero couldn't forget it. He had seen the outline of another person in that window, talking to Relena. And once he had it fixed in his mind, he saw more and more things to suggest that there was more than one person living in Elfindell. Subtle things, but things, once he noticed them, that could only point to one conclusion.  
  
The amount of food Relena brought home on a Tuesday.it was more than enough for one person and Relena had always been slim if not downright undernourished. If she consumed all that food on her own, and so quickly, she must have had had a huge appetite. Heero didn't think that was too likely.  
  
One day, Relena had stumbled on a loose cobble in The Lane right outside Heero's house. She dropped her basket. Scowling, she stooped to retrieve her carrots and books.  
  
Heero was sitting on his steps outside his front door. He bent and picked up something that had rolled out of Relena's basket to his feet. A small, wooden yo-yo. He looked at it then up at Relena as she once more got to her feet. He stood and took it to her. She thanked him curtly with hardly a glance in his direction; nothing in her manner suggested that children's toys in a young widow's shopping basket were unusual as far as she was concerned. She continued down the lane and shut the great iron gates behind her.  
  
Heero took to watching the house from his window more closely than he used to. He saw the figure a few more times after he started looking for it. Only at night, brief glimpses in the candlelight. He could see how it had stumped him before: if he had ever happened to see it before, he could have thought it to be just Relena. But now he was looking, he could see that it could not possibly have been. Too small, a different shape: a child's shape. A girl, he judged, from the long hair. It took him a long time to even ascertain that much. Whoever or whatever the girl was, she was clever in trying to stay hidden. She never came to the windows during the day time. Heero could only occasionally catch fleeting glances of a figure moving through the depths of the rooms during the day. So, it wasn't a ghost. Ghosts couldn't come out in the daytime. Could they?  
  
Heero's curiosity almost consumed him. He didn't speak to the other children about his findings. They really didn't want to hear about it. He thought they were even more scared than he was. But he just had to find out.who was the other person hiding in Elfindell?  
  
Tuesday rolled around again. Heero watched eagerly from his house until he saw Relena head off down the street to market. As soon as she was out of sight, he slipped out of his front door to the large iron gates. Glancing around, he saw that all the other children where at the far end of The Lane, playing in the early summer sunshine. They didn't notice him.  
  
He took a deep breath and turned back to the gates. The iron railings were tall and painted black. He clutched the bars and looked through into Elfindell's unkempt front garden. The bushes seemed to rustle ominously in the still air. The sunshine shone down on the house, but it didn't seem to dispel all the shadows that it should. The windows were dark.  
  
Looking once more over his shoulder, to confirm no one was watching him, he pushed open the tall gate. It creaked on rusty hinges. His blue eyes surveyed the garden again as he slowly slipped through the open gate and shut it behind him. His heart was pounding with fear and excitement. He was in Elfindell's garden.  
  
Craning his neck, he looked down The Lane over his shoulder. It looked a lot brighter and more appealing now he was on this side of the gate. He almost turned back right then, but no. He remembered the figure of the small girl.he had to find out why she was hiding.or maybe a prisoner?  
  
Heero tip-toed down the broken old garden path. The silence hung thick around him, as if the entire world were locked out of this place. The house seemed to loom up above him, ready to pounce.  
  
The first step up to the porch was broken. He hopped over it and clambered up onto the creaky wooden porch. All was dead leaves, cobwebs and peeling whitewash. The front door stood forbidding in front of him, large thick and heavy. He listened. Still the silence rang true.  
  
Heero gathered his courage and, standing on tip-toe, lifted the brass doorknocker. He tapped, three times, loud, clear knocks. Nothing happened.  
  
"Hello?" he called softly. He knew she was in there. Maybe she was too scared to come to the door. He knocked again with the knocker and then his fist and pulled the bell chain. He heard the creaky old bell ring within the house. Still no response.  
  
Calling out, he peered in the windows next to the door, but all the curtains were drawn. Still no one came to the door.  
  
"Hello!" he called. "I won't hurt you!"  
  
He knelt in front of the door and pushed the brass letter box to peer through.  
  
Two wide eyes were staring at him from the other side, just inches from the letter box.  
  
He screamed and stumbled back. He fell down the broken step onto the broken stone path. He stared at the front door, eyes wide in terror. The brass letter box ad snapped shut, shielding the eyes from view.  
  
Those eyes! A pair of eyes, wide and inhuman, staring at him, staring right *though* him, in that split second. Those weren't the eyes of an ordinary child.  
  
He didn't wait to dare and try to figure out what the eyes belonged to. He turned and ran, not daring to look back.  
  
TBC  
  
Scared yet? 


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Slightly scary, dark, shounen-ai later (1x2)  
  
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?  
  
Elfindell  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Those eyes were scoured into Heero's mind so strongly that whenever he shut his own, he could still see them, staring at him. They seemed to be showing so much that no human should ever know. He could not remember what colour they were, only that they blazed with inhuman malice and threat.  
  
He had to sit under the kitchen table for a good ten minutes before he recovered. Just that split-second glance had managed to chill his blood beyond imagining. He had to keep repeating to himself that it couldn't hurt him to get his furiously beating heart to calm.  
  
He stayed in the house for the rest of the day, not daring to go outside where he might see Elfindell and might catch a glimpse of those eyes watching him from one of the windows. But is amazing how resilient a child's mind can be when kindled by fear. He forgot the terror that that gaze had distilled in him and instead realised: yes, there was a child in there. All his suspicions were correct. But.not a normal child. But that didn't bother Heero in his childish excitement. He wanted to find out more.but the effect of those eyes was still too fresh in his memory for the rest of that day.  
  
He did not venture outside. But he could still almost see the house, he fancied, as he looked at the solid wall of his house that was all that divided him from Elfindell.  
  
His father did not notice Heero's rather jumpy attitude that afternoon. He came back from work at the little book shop in town as always and didn't realise that Heero was sitting in the lounge alone in silence. There was no book in his lap or toys at his feet.he was.just thinking.  
  
Heero just sat and pondered over his strange experience until his father called him for tea. It still rang fear in his heart, but this was overwhelmed by the desire to know exactly what it was that lurked behind the shuttered windows and front door of Elfindell.  
  
He was decided: next Tuesday, as soon as Relena had set out for market, Heero was going into Elfindell.  
  
A shadow passed over the sun and it was as if a cold draught whispered on the back of his neck. He shivered. Just father opening the back door, Heero imagined. He got up off his seat to go to his supper.  
  
He glanced in the large mirror above the mantle as he left the room, the one that had been his mother's. His own reflection was not present in the mirror. Instead was the ghostly pale visage of an unearthly child, with eyes wide and blazing.  
  
Heero started and almost cried out, but he blinked and the terrifying image was gone, as if had never been. All he saw was himself, nine-year-old boy, messy brown hair, grubby face, deep blue eyes. He shook his head. Father had told him to stop trying to scare himself with ghost stories. It was just his imagination getting overactive. But he took care not to look in the mirror again too closely.  
  
He was even more silent than usual over supper. Nothing strange happened to fuel his imagination, but he was half expecting to see the wild child's reflection in the silverware or in the water in the wash basin. Doubt started to niggle at his bravery as darkness descended around the house. Had he involved himself in something he couldn't possibly handle?  
  
He pushed his doubts aside. Imagine if he got into Elfindell! He'd be the envy of all the other children. But it was a matter that ran deeper than that. He felt the house call to him silently, as if inviting him to find out its secrets.  
  
He intended to find out those secrets, no matter how much the prospect daunted him. Who was the strange wild girl? Why was she shut away from the world? And why did her eyes blaze like openings to the swallowing abysses of hell?  
  
The night rolled in around the house greedily and completely. Presently Heero obediently kissed his father goodnight and went upstairs to bed. It had been a tiring day and he really couldn't wait to sleep. Only through sleep did he feel that he might escape the conflicting emotions of anticipation and fear that assailed him.  
  
After washing he went into his darkened bedroom. His father had lit a candle, as always, and placed it on his bedside, but it seemed a pathetic illumination now. Was it his imagination or was the darkness more clinging tonight than it had ever been before?  
  
Just his imagination. Heero stretched and yawned. He went to the window to draw the curtains. Elfindell skulked like a great empty skull under the starlight. It seemed more terrible and mysterious than ever. There were no lights in the windows at all.  
  
Something caught Heero's eye, just as he was about to pull the curtains. It was in that window, the one he could clearly see from his own. The curtains were open, though no light shone from inside. In the gloom, he made out a shape.a figure. A child-like figure. It stood as still as stone in the darkened window and Heero realised with a terrible stab of fear that it was staring right at him. Even in the dark, the light glinted off terrible wide eyes that were stared intently and piercingly.  
  
He pulled the curtains and dived into his bed, pulling the covers over his head. He clenched his eyes shut but the vision did not leave him. Even though the curtains had been shut in between him and Elfindell with its looming windows, he was sure that the thing was still watching him.  
  
TBC  
  
Whaddya think? Keep going? 


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings: Slightly scary, dark, shounen-ai later (1x2)  
  
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?  
  
Elfindell  
  
Chapter 4  
  
The rest of that week was quiet. Heero ventured out after a couple of days. His father had begun to get suspicious of his sudden reluctance to go outside and Heero did not want his father to find out about his discovery, or his plans for next Tuesday.  
  
He told none of the other children what he had seen, but they also realised that something strange was going on. Heero would often throw excited or worried glances over his shoulder to where Elfindell lurked behind its iron gates.  
  
"Don't fret," Wufei whispered to Trowa and Quatre one day. "Heero's just gone loopy.or Relena's cast a spell on him!" Wufei laughed manically, hissing at little Quatre who squeaked in fright and dived for sanctuary behind Trowa.  
  
Trowa glared at Wufei. Wufei was laughing hysterically. Heero was ignoring all of them. A little tin omnibus lay forgotten in his hand and he was staring in between Wufei and Trowa, down the lane, to the shadowy place behind the bushes and gates. Little did the others know what was going on in Heero's mind.  
  
By the time Tuesday dawned again, Heero was so excited about his upcoming adventure that he had almost completely forgotten how much he had been scared the week before.  
  
As soon as his father had set out to work, Heero sat on his front doorstep under the pretence of leafing through a picture book and eagerly watched the front gates of Elfindell for any sign of Relena.  
  
She appeared soon enough in her stiff home-spun woollen gown, her large market basket on one arm and a shawl around her shoulders. Heero pretended to concentrate on his book. He did not dare think what she would do if she found out he was going to sneak into her house. Heero no longer believed that Relena was a witch, but he knew there was something mysterious about her.  
  
He watched her over the top of his book until she had turned the corner at the top of The Lane and was out of sight. No one was watching him.  
  
Laying the book down on the doorstep, he stood slowly, breathing deeply to keep his courage up. He crept up to the gates and laid his hand on their cold surface. A shiver went through him. With one final glance over his shoulder, he, once again, slipped through the creaky gates and into Elfindell's shadowy front garden.  
  
It was the same as last time, all shadows and rustlings. The sun was shining brightly up above, and yet it did not seem sunny in the garden. Heero, biting his fingernails with nerves, slowly moved up the broken garden path to the front door. Skipping the first broken step, he made it up onto the leafy front porch and then to the front door. It seemed a lot bigger than last time. He craned his neck and looked up at the large brass doorknocker. But he didn't knock this time. On compulsion, he pressed his ear up against the door, just in case the wild girl was crouching just inside, waiting for him. He could hear nothing, but he did not dare to try the letter box.  
  
One last time, he looked back the way he'd come, half-expecting and half-hoping that Relena was striding up along The Lane in a fury to tear him away from her front door. But The Lane was unusually empty.  
  
Gulping, he placed his hand on the cold door handle. It turned with a heavy creak. The door wasn't locked. He pushed it open slowly. It was very dark and shadowy.and empty.  
  
Peering through the gloom into the hall, he saw nothing except some stairs leading upstairs. No wild children were standing there, staring at him as he had half expected. There was no one there.  
  
Slightly encouraged, Heero took his first tentative step into the house. He left the front door open. It was very strange in there. There was one table in the hall, completely devoid of any ornaments or vases and not a single speck of dust. It was just a table, but a table that shouldn't have been there. There was no reason for it to be there. It was the only piece of furniture in the hall. IT was a perfectly ordinary object and yet it seemed uncommonly out of place and eerie, standing alone in the middle of the empty hall.  
  
And the hall was empty. Completely empty. The walls were plain and white with no pictures hanging. Ahead and to his immediate right there were two doors, closed. He could see more doors upstairs along an empty landing, all shut. To his left was another door, slightly open.  
  
He started. For a second he thought he had seen some tiny, white fingers clutching the edge of the doorjamb. But no, nothing there.  
  
He walked forward. His footsteps seemed to ring unnaturally loud on the carpeted floor. He reached the open door. He looked back over his shoulder once to make sure the front door was still open, and then pushed the door open. The room beyond was dark. All the curtains were shut. It was empty of children. There were bookshelves galore, stuffed with large leather-bound volumes that looked very old. The air, which felt extraordinarily thick in Heero's lungs, tasted like old paper and musty ink. There was an old and grand oaken bureau in one corner, locked up tight. There were old and worn rugs on the floor. The hearth was cold, empty and swept clean and there were no ornaments on the mantle.  
  
Heero stared around the room in amazement. It felt so eerie in there. It was warm, yet he felt cold inside. It was full of books and bookshelves and yet it felt so *empty*. It was obviously lived in because the surfaces were regularly polished, but it felt like no one had really been in the room for ages. There were no personal touches, no family heirlooms, no mounted pictures or portraits, no china. Just books.  
  
Heero couldn't read yet, so he did not know what the books were about, but he got the feeling that they weren't pleasant. There were lots of strange symbols on the spines and very few had titles at all.  
  
The small boy tip-toed forward and pulled one of the large books off the shelf carefully. It smelt funny and was almost too heavy for Heero to hold. There was a queer picture on the front of some sort of cross or crucifix. //A bible?// Heero wondered. But no. The picture, the shape and the feel of the book altogether felt too profane to be anything holy.  
  
He opened it up. It was in a strange script that even Heero could tell was not English. He turned a page and dropped the book. On the next page there was a hideous picture, drawn in faded ink in crude lines and rude colours. It was some sort of twisted beast or monster. It was all long fangs and grasping claws and seemed to know that Heero was looking at it. He could almost swear it moved.  
  
Heero whimpered and slammed the book shut. He couldn't bring himself to pick the book up again to put it back on the shelf. He suddenly hated that room. All the books were watching him, he was sure.  
  
Gasping, Heero spun around, his heart pounding. He could have sworn he heard a child giggling behind him. But the room was still empty. He knew he wasn't alone in the house though. His courage had started to seep away. Everything around him seemed to be whispering at him 'You shouldn't be here.'  
  
He could no longer stand to be in that dark room any longer. He felt the strong urge to suck his thumb for comfort, but no, that was babyish. I mean, he was going to be *ten* in autumn. Nine-and-a-half-year-olds did not suck their thumbs. That was for Nine-and-a-quarter-year-olds.  
  
So Heero steeled himself and left the room, still determined to find the strange girl. He shut the door to the room firmly. He was afraid that the creature in the book might come after him if he left the door open. Then he got a terrible shock. The front door was shut. He hadn't heard it shut, but it was. Rushing to it with the intent to open it again and leave it open, Heero felt a growing dread. It was locked. Heero whimpered, seriously scared now. He rattled at the handle but it wouldn't give.  
  
"You can't go yet!"  
  
Heero spun around, blood pounding in his hears. He knew he hadn't imagined that voice. But the hall was completely empty behind him. //I wish I'd never come.// He longed for sunshine and outside. He hated this place. But he couldn't get out.  
  
*Thump, thump, thump* Heero had to clap his hands over his mouth to stop his scream. Running footsteps. He had defiantly heard them. Upstairs.  
  
He peered trough the gloom and up onto the landing. Had that shadow been there before? He was certain it hadn't been. He was also certain that shadows are not supposed to stare at you. He froze. He couldn't move. His fists clenched hard and he felt icy terror creep up his spine. And then the shadow was gone. Heero heard a high peel of laughter but was not sure from where it came.  
  
He was not alone in this house and he was trapped.  
  
TBC 


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings: Slightly scary, dark, shounen-ai later (1x2)  
  
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?  
  
Elfindell  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Silence screamed in the house for several minutes. Heero's breath sounded like it raked the air harshly and his heart felt like it was trying to climb out of his mouth merely to escape. But he was sure that, beyond the silence, he could hear someone else's breathing and heartbeats. He stayed flat against the front door, too scared to move. But he was even more scared to stay. He had to find a way out.  
  
On his right was the other shut door. Glancing around, searching for any sign of staring shadows, he crept forward to the shut door. Once again, the brass handle was colder than seemed natural. Keeping a close watch on the stairs and upstairs landing, Heero pushed the door open.  
  
The room beyond was ominously empty as the first one had been. There was again another cold and swept hearth with a bare mantle. Several armchairs and a sofa were arranged around it. One wall was once again given over to books, but there were not as many as in the other room. There was a wooden chair up against one wall, beside the bookshelf. And there was a window. A window with the curtains drawn back which let the sunlight fall in a broad bar across the floor. If he could get to that window, he could climb out. He could see his house, standing on the other side of the iron railings like a large and beautiful church, welcoming and offering him safety.  
  
He rushed forward to push the wooden chair against the window so that he could slimb up to open it.  
  
"Relena would be really mad if she found you here."  
  
Heero's blood froze in his veins. Icy fingers crept up his spine and he had to physically make the effort to carry on breathing. Slowly, as if his bones were frozen, he turned to face the source of the voice.  
  
Sitting in the chair behind him was the wild child. Not a girl at all, a boy. A boy with unnaturally long hair that fell to his waist. His eyes were the unearthly windows to terror that Heero remembered piercing him to his soul through the letter box, darkened windows and shadows. The screamed an unearthly violet.  
  
The boy sat as still as death, those horrific eyes so wide open it was unnatural. He seemed to be seeing right through Heero. The rest of the young boy's face was flat and devoid of any human response. His body was rigidly still, except for his right hand in which he was spinning a small wooden yoyo, up and down, up and down. The repetitive motion seemed eerie in its unchanging perfection. The boy was not looking at the yoyo or his hand as he effortlessly and thoughtlessly, it seemed, kept the yoyo in perfect synch. It never so much as shook on the string,  
  
Heero couldn't get his breathing under control. He wanted to run, oh so badly. He wanted to get away from those eyes. But he couldn't move. He dared not turn his back on them.  
  
The boy didn't move at all except for the yoyo in his hand. He never blinked.  
  
"Who are you?" Heero managed to stammer, his voice quavering beyond his control.  
  
"My name's Duo," the boy reported.  
  
Silence, stillness.  
  
Heero's limbs began to loosen. The boy made no move to hurt him. But his eeriness still chilled Heero's blood. "I'm Heero."  
  
"I know."  
  
Another silence. The yoyo kept spinning.  
  
"You're not going to hurt me?" Heero asked in a small voice.  
  
"No," the boy stated. "*I* don't want to hurt you Heero."  
  
Heero felt an immense relief. He moved slightly and felt his blood start to pump calmly again. "You're good with your yoyo," Heero said, his young mind rejecting the eeriness of the unerring repetitive motion.  
  
"Do you want a go?" the boy asked.  
  
"Could I?" Heero brightened slightly. Once you got over the terrifying eyes which seemed to be showing much more than they should, this was just a little boy. A strange little boy, but a little boy none the less. And little boys like to play.  
  
The boy nodded, catching the yoyo accurately in his hand. He held it out to Heero.  
  
The other boy came forward, still rather cautiously for Duo's eyes still refused to blink or look away from Heero's face. Heero took the yoyo and admired it for a moment. It was a very good yoyo, good quality wood, strong string and the design of a leaping deer carved into the wood was smooth and accurate. It looked near new. Heero realised this was the same yoyo that had rolled from Relena's basket the previous week.  
  
Heero threaded the string onto his finger and gave the yoyo an experimental flick. He laughed to himself as he managed a full up and down motion without it wobbling too much. "This is a good yoyo," Heero observed. The boy didn't answer. Heero carried on playing with the yoyo. "I've got one, but it's not as good as this."  
  
"Would you like to keep it?" Duo asked.  
  
Heero looked up, all fear of the strange boy completely washed away by such generosity. "Really? No fooling?"  
  
The boy nodded. His face was still eerily flat and his eyes staring and unblinking, but Heero no longer noticed it.  
  
"Thank you!" he said, clutching the little wooden toy to his chest as if it were a precious jewel. "But I have nothing to give you."  
  
The boy almost looked human for a second. He almost looked shy as he finally glanced away from Heero to stare at the floor and asked softly. "You could stay and play with me for a while. I have some tin soldiers upstairs."  
  
Heero nodded eagerly. The boy almost smiled. His eyes never blinked. Heero looked down once again at his new yoyo. When he looked up, the boy was gone. Heero frowned, turned around twice, looking to see where he'd gone. When he faced the chair again, the boy was there. He had made no noise. His sudden reappearance made Heero jump. He soon forgot the strangeness though when he saw that the boy clutched in his small arms no less than half a dozen tin soldiers, with hats and everything.  
  
He smiled slightly and clutched his yoyo. He knew, deep down, that there was still something to be afraid of here. Also, the front door was locked and he was still trapped here. There were still scary books and the shadows were still thick in the air. But right now, Heero was content to play with the tin soldiers. He ignored his sense of foreboding. He never relinquished his grip on his new toy.  
  
TBC  
  
More here than meets the eye, ne? You'll never guess it…Do you want me to carry on?? 


End file.
